


Christmas Afternoon

by Small_Hobbit



Series: Sussex Retirement [16]
Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 06:17:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9165715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: Holmes and Watson enjoy Christmas afternoon in the company of Seth and his family.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ's Amnesty challenge, "Old Friends" prompt

We had enjoyed a delicious Christmas dinner.  Ellen had surpassed herself and even William and Arthur had been forced to admit they could eat no more.  Once Ellen had cleared away with the assistance of her two sons, she had declared her intention of taking a turn around the village green.  We had offered to go with her, but this she had declined, saying she was sure not to be in need of company, for many of her friends would be doing likewise.  
  
As soon as he was allowed Arthur had charged out; his mother insisting he return by nightfall and stay away from anything which might rip, stain or otherwise be detrimental to his Sunday clothes.  The admonition fell on deaf ears, as would similar instructions given, in similar forceful tones, to his peers.  
  
William slipped out, muttering, “I might just see if,” he gave a slight cough, “is around.”  
  
We waved him off, Seth repeating his mother’s instruction to be back by nightfall.  This left the three of us alone.  We debated whether we too should go for a stroll, but the ground was slightly icy, and none of us are quite as steady on our feet as we once were.  Besides which Holmes had purchased an excellent bottle of port, which we had brought with us, and it seemed a shame not to try it out.  
  
We settled further in our armchairs, and Holmes and I, who had known each other for so many years, started to talk of some of the cases we had seen.  We recalled the goose which had swallowed the blue carbuncle, Jabez Wilson and his red-headed league, and Irene Norton, née Adler, and the King of Bohemia.  These were stories we had retold in the past, and we knew them so well we could practically finish each others’ sentences.  
  
Then Seth told us tales of village life.  He said they were not as exciting as the ones we told, but his eye for detail and his insight into his fellow villagers’ behaviour brought them to life.  His greatest amusement was of recounting tales of those he had grown up with, some of whom we now knew as the old men in the village.  And in doing so we could see how traits exhibited in youth had continued into old age, and also how particular events had changed those young men.  
  
We had not realised how much time had passed, until Ellen returned, saying she would start to prepare some sandwiches for tea.  Shortly after that Arthur came in.  Seth inspected him and suggested he apply the clothes brush to his coat and trousers before his mother saw him.  
  
Lastly, William returned.  He came in somewhat hesitantly and stood in the doorway.  His mother called to him to come in properly and shut the door before all the heat went out.  
  
“Would it be all right,” he began shyly, “if, um, her Ma and Dick Mason say it’s okay, if it’s okay with you, that is …” He tailed off.  
  
“If Daisy comes to tea,” Ellen finished for him.  “I shall be happy for her to do so.  But you must ask your grandfather and Dr Watson and Mr Holmes.”  
  
The enormity of the task seemed to have rendered William dumb.  
  
“Come in Daisy,” Seth said, “it’s lovely to see you.”  
  
The girl came in and smiled shyly.  I smiled back and said, “Mr Holmes and I would be delighted to have your company for tea.”  
  
Daisy said “thank you” very quietly and then scuttled into the kitchen to see if she could help Ellen.  
  
Seth looked at William.  “Right, lad, you’d better get another chair.”  
  
Tea was another excellent meal and the whole day had been a joy.  However, I wasn’t sorry when Austen came to collect us to drive us back to our cottage.  I was looking forward to my own armchair and sharing the peace and quiet of our sitting room with my oldest friend.


End file.
